war.
A bouquet of flowers, on a table.
the tablecloth is as white as fresh snow.
The first days of spring, children’s singing silent from a distance
sunlight flooding through the first leaves of the trees
plate by plate the table gets laid
silver knifes and spoons,
the smell of a roast floating through the whole house.
A dog barks,
A cloud covers the sun, dims the lights
the world lays in shadows.
Don‘t worry
it‘s gonna be alright, it‘s just a cloud.
It‘s gone already. Look little child, the sun comes out again.
The sunlight close to the window is amazing, smallest fluffs of dust
playing in the sunlight.
It‘s warm, so close to the window.
It get‘s colder. out of nowhere, the world is holding it‘s breath. The children stopped singing. the dog has stopped barking. No more talking, every word is a whisper. Hairs on necks straightening up. every slightest breeze of wind is felt like a storm.
The window starts to bend inwards, the glass, is bowed. The child stands in front of it, fascinated by what is happening. Suddenly it breaks, in a split seconds, thousands of crystals are dancing in the air, the sunlight letting them sparkle like diamonds.
The crystals still standing in the air, start to move, into the inside of the house.
The child can see them so clear and bright, he does not dare to move. the first sliver glides through the flesh under his eye. cutting it open in a beautiful half circle. getting stuck shortly above his cheekbone.
a split second later, the face is ripped in pieces, spiked with shreds of glass. the power of the blast is pushing the child backwards through the air, through the room. if the epic noise from outside would not be, you could hear the crack of the child’s spine being smashed into pieces when he hits the wall.
But what does it matter, the sun is covered by a cloud again, the world lies in shadow.
[ratings]